


Captured Angel

by Redfire_Dragon



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angels and Demons, Cruelty, Hunting, Torture, Two Possible Endings, demons are cruel, no smutt, non sensual, not sure if I'll write both
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redfire_Dragon/pseuds/Redfire_Dragon
Summary: Primus created the angels to guard and aid the mortals in the harshness of life. So Unicron created his demons to hunt and break the angels, and increase the suffering on all of Cybertron once again.And what else would a demon do with a captured angel other than torture it slowly to death?https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org/1731772.htmlProwlxJazz 11th anniversary challenge week 2Angels and Demons    with possibly a side of the Sparkeater theme





	Captured Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I know it is late, stuff happens, I _do_ have one for this week's theme I promise.

The angel was beautiful, glowing faintly in the darkness of its cell. Sleek streamlined frame for swift flight like a courier limp in its chains. Some demons might have wings but none yet could keep up with a courier angel, much less catch one in flight. But this one was strong too, far stronger than the slightly smaller than average frame would suggest. Strong _and_ clever, with piercing blue disdainful optics that had all but frozen his vents when he'd caught the thing. So beautiful, so perfect, so powerful, and now it was his. A guardian angel for sure. He was young and inexperienced, but even _he_ could tell that. He wondered if it was one of the important ones, or infamous. He'd been hunting the thing for quite some time, a painstaking frustrating chase. He knew it was strong, and cunning, but he couldn't tell its age. He wasn't familiar enough with angels and the way they looked or aged. He could tell the ages of the other demons easily, most of it was in the horns, but this creature? Not a clue.

It had been such a hunt though. It was recommended to take on something weak and easy for your first hunt, and even _then_ most young demons died. It was so funny to watch, every single one of them utterly _certain_ they couldn't be killed by one of the angels, certain that of their class _they_ were the one who couldn't fail. And yet of even his class most were already dead. He chuckled darkly. Fools all of them, he wasn't anything like them. _He_ was destined for greatness, there wasn't an angel alive that could take him down. His horns might still be short and blunt but he would show them all, and this angel was just the beginning. His first catch, his first victim.

By Unicron though, it had been hard to catch. Too swift on land or in sky for him, and coupled with such a high endurance too. He'd hoped to catch up and run it down after its strength had worn out on the ground but even an orn later it was obvious that the angel's vehicle mode had continued to travel at that utterly astounding speed endlessly. Unicron's blood, it was powerful. It was then that he'd started to wonder if it was really just a courier angel. True he'd been looking for a challenge, or he wouldn't have been seeking out a courier angel to start with, but this? Just from that first stubborn and utterly futile chase he _knew_ this was a challenge worthy of his might and skill.

Usually only a hunting _party_ could catch a courier, they could be cornered not chased down. Usually only the most careless or arrogant could be caught by a lone demon. It would have been a huge disappointment if this one had been of those, to catch it because of a terrible character flaw, but no, as he tracked it, struggling week by week, he saw never a flaw in its swift and terrible work. So fast, so agile, so alert, and _always_ in control. As all demons he had been trained in the art of the hunt, for vorns memorizing strategies and the forms and natures of their various prey. He drew on that, what you could not best in speed you had to take by surprise. Ambush, outsmart, outflank.

Oh but it had been so _hard_. At first he hadn't even been able to reliably hear tale of the angel, much less personally spot any trace of it. Couriers were all over the place sometimes but they _usually_ had an assigned area they frequented, the only way a specific individual could be hunt at all. But this annoying prey was _all over the place_ , too far, too wide, too unpredictable. Anyone less stubborn would have given up and given in. But he was determined and as the months wore on, sightings and dates spreading out on a personal hunt map he created to keep up with his erratic prey, he could see the pattern, the territory growing.

He found hot spots, he knew where it went, noticing how it did not appear to quite _be_ a courier, intervening in the lives of mortals instead of interacting with other angels. The speed of the best of couriers, but acting like a guardian angel. Here and there, here and there, but always in the confines of a, very large, but finite territory. Others of his age and class had already many brought in their first catch or were reported to be dead already, some had begun to mock and ridicule him for his lack of success. He didn't care though, they would see. When he brought in this powerful angel, too clever to fall into any of his traps and too fast to chase, they would see, they would be in awe of him for his powerful catch and _know_ who was the best among them.

Yet as he hunted he noticed the angel glancing or staring in his direction when he knew he was hid, or catching him in the open and blatantly staring him down, those piercing blue optics judging him, boring into him, cool and unreadable. He'd been unsettled the first time, indeed all the times, those optics felt as if they burned into his spark, but instead of flinching or backing down he had smiled slowly, a cocky grin of his own, for he was not one to back down from a challenge. The strange thing though was, despite clearly knowing he was hunting it, it did not ever turn to attack him. It observed him for brief moments, or disassembled his carefully constructed and hidden traps with hardly an effort, then continued on as if he _didn't matter_ . More than anything else about it, _that_ was what galled him about the angel, reminded him of his hate and helped him stay cruel and plot out the deliciousness of the torture he would soon enjoy. He would _not_ be looked down on, especially not by some stupid angel. It was prey, and he the inescapable hunter. No matter how long it took, he would take this creature down, it would be _his_ to hurt, to torture, and to break. He would be the best of them all, and this angel was the first step of his journey, his first and undeniable proof of his own power and skill.

But nothing _worked_. He could run and hunt and plot but there was nothing that took the frustratingly clever creature by surprise. Was it possible that angels could see the future? Or was this creature just reading his mind or _whaaat_? Urgh! It was as if it could _sense_ the traps.

In the end the answer was simple, laughably simple, to catch the angel. Well, the idea, the set up and execution _was_ a bit tricky. All he had to do was find one of those the angel protected, and set up a trap where the angel _had_ to fall into it, run head first into it, or the mortal would perish in moments. No time to pause or plan a way out, no time to call backup. He had hidden himself perfectly, watching through telescopic lenses as the angel arrived. In a moment it analyzed the situation, and its helm snapped around, staring directly at Jazz, across all that distance, though he was so perfectly hid. Then, those frosty disapproving optics not breaking contact, it lunged for the mortal, knocking it away to safety as the long spike of dark energon impaled it, rendering it unconscious and helpless. Oh dark energon, an angel's greatest weakness, and a demon's greatest weapon. He tried to chuckle, triumphant in the final success of his hunt, but the feel of those cold disdainful optics lingered making his vents clench and stutter. So he'd decided to use that as an inspiration for the angel's cell, his triumphant smirk coming at last.

Instead of hot, the cell was freezing cold, cold enough, almost, to kill. The angel hung limply from its bindings, the shackles studded with dark energon to keep it weak, and each trapped in a magnetic field that held the creature in place, arms stretched to the sides and slightly up, hanging from them, with the legs locked almost together, not supporting a bit of the angel's weight, but the fields for each preventing movement from the center-points so the angel couldn't kick at him. It had been repaired of course, from the dark energon spike, it was much more fun to start torture with a victim in good health after all. The long spike that had been used to capture it was still in the room, off to the side, in case he decided to use it. Oh he had such plans for his trophy, his carefully captured prey. He might be next to the last of his class to make a capture, but already many of even the older demons in his sector had come by to marvel at the powerful creature he had captured alone. Many had doubted the he even _had_ captured it alone, but in the end even the doubters were silenced.

And so it had hung there, in the freezing cold of the cold-cell, alone but for its thoughts and the weakening power of the Dark energon bindings. Solitary to help break its spirit, make it crave living company, even that of a demon possibly, or just to let the creature stew, either outcome was acceptable. He watched it orn after orn, its plating clamped tight to recirculate air to keep the heat in, having to run systems continuously to generate enough warmth to prevent it from perishing of the cold, unable to recharge lest it die in its sleep. He'd watched as its light had dimmed, orn to orn, as frost collected on its extremities, its optics going out to conserve energy, those sensitive wings icing up in a way that could only be excruciating.

So beautiful, so helpless, finally ready for the fun to _begin_.


End file.
